Page 34 of On a Midnight Clear

“Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea.”

Stella cringed inwardly as the young ladies of the R.C.B.

Literary Society flocked around Frank on the lawn in front of Burleson Hall.

They peppered him with questions and assaulted him with a mixture of batting eyelashes and antagonistic glares.

Like an ill-prepared soldier thrust into battle, Frank flinched and dodged, tripping over both his words and his feet.

“Is it true they don’t allow women to study at Harvard?” Rose Atwater accused, her eyebrows slanting behind her wire-rimmed spectacles.

Frank stumbled sideways a step. “Ah ... technically, yes, but there’s an Annex where, ah, females receive instruction directly from Harvard professors. I taught a course there last term, as a matter of fa—”

“So you condone the subjugation of women in institutions of higher learning?”

Frank’s eyes rounded like a hunted animal cornered by a predator. “That’s not what I—”

Annabelle Raymond sidled up so close to Frank that her black-checked skirt brushed his trouser leg.

“Pay her no mind, Mr. Stentz. Rose is still sore from losin’ our suffrage debate last week.

” Annabelle’s accent thickened as she laid on the southern charm.

The sound grated on Stella’s nerves. Normally she adored Annabelle, but at the moment, Stella found her display of feminine wiles vastly annoying.

“I’m sooooo lookin’ forward to attendin’ your lecture tomorrow on the transformational nature of pi, Professor. ”

“Transcendental,” Frank corrected as he scooted a few inches away. “Lindemann proved pi to be transcendental not transformational.” He cast an anxious glance at Annabelle’s skirt, as if it were made of nettles that would sting him if they got too close.

A third young lady, Margaret Olson, jostled Annabelle out of the way and inserted herself into the vacated space. Stella bit back a groan. Could they not see how unsettled they were making him?

“The only pi you understand, Annabelle, is the kind you can eat.” Margaret turned to Frank. “I, on the other hand, am in Professor Barrington’s geometry class this term and am quite efficient in calculating circular areas.”

“Speaking of calculating circular areas,” Stella inserted into the quickly deteriorating conversation, “why don’t we apply some of our mathematical knowledge, ladies.

” Before they henpecked Frank to pieces.

“If Professor Stentz is the center of a circle with a radius of three feet and wishes to conduct conversation only with those standing at or beyond the circumference of said circle, where should each of us position ourselves?”

“Oh, oh, oh, I know this!” Annabelle bounced on her toes. “If the radius is three feet, then the diameter would be six—”

Margaret rolled her eyes as she took hold of Annabelle’s arm and tugged her backward. “For pity’s sake, Annabelle. It’s not a real math problem. Miss Barrington is just trying to get us to stop crowding the professor.”

“Oh.” Annabelle’s face flamed as she retreated.

“Your calculations were quite sound, though,” Frank said, daring a quick glance at the young woman before diverting his gaze to a tree some distance away.

Stella’s heart warmed. It spoke well of a man to look past his own discomfort to soothe the discomfort of another.

Annabelle brightened at the professor’s approval, but she made sure to respect Stella’s arbitrary boundary. “I’ll see you at the lecture tomorrow, Professor.”

Frank offered a tight smile. “I’ll be there.”

And he would probably be ready to run in the opposite direction should Annabelle approach him again.

Stella bit back a grin. Poor man. She should probably warn her father about the ladies’ reactions so he could take precautionary measures to keep Frank from being bombarded.

Apparently Baylor’s female population found Harvard men quite intriguing.

At least the ones under forty. She doubted Professors Goldstein and Muir were experiencing the same flood of attention.

“Come on, girls,” Rose Atwater announced with the authority that came from being the oldest student of the group. “Let’s leave Miss Barrington to her beau. We don’t want to risk receiving a demerit for failing to arrive at the library on time for study hall.”

Annabelle’s gaze flew to Stella. “Your beau ? Mercy, Miss Barrington. Why didn’t you say so?”

Now Stella’s face was the one flaming.

The other girls tittered as they followed Rose away from the dormitory where their literary society met toward the main academic building. Annabelle, however, hurried to Stella’s side and took her hand.

Leaning close, she murmured an apology in a quiet voice. “I never would have flirted with the professor had I known he was your fella, Miss Barrington.”

Annabelle had struggled to fit in with the other girls when she first arrived at Baylor last fall.

Her lack of academic focus and the inconsequential standing of her family had made it difficult to connect with other students.

She’d been sent to school on scholarship since her father was a preacher, and while Annabelle had never admitted to anything scandalous in her past, Stella had pieced together enough of her story to infer that the Raymonds had sent their daughter to school to extricate her from a relationship they deemed unsuitable.

As a Christian institution, Baylor had a reputation for strict propriety when it came to educating their female students.

Policy prohibited young ladies from accepting the attentions of men while enrolled.

Annabelle struggled to embrace the restrictive confines, and Stella did her best to provide gentle guidance as well as a sympathetic ear whenever Annabelle grew discouraged.

Stella patted Annabelle’s hand. “Professor Stentz is not my beau. He’s simply a friend and a colleague of my father’s. Nothing more.” At least not yet.

Not yet? As if a change was guaranteed. Nothing in life was guaranteed, especially her ability to win the affections of a man like Frank Stentz.

Goodness! He was bound for Germany in a few months.

Germany! An entire ocean away. Even if something did bloom between them, nothing could come of it for several years because she’d never abandon Papa to travel overseas.

But wouldn’t she also be abandoning him if she moved to Massachusetts?

Her stomach churned. She couldn’t leave Papa. He needed her. Who would make his breakfast and press his shirts? What had she been thinking? This was a mistake.

“Miss Barrington?” Annabelle squeezed her hand. “Are you all right?”

“O-of course.” Well, that wobbly assurance would fool no one. Least of all herself. She forced a smile onto her face, but Annabelle’s grip on her hand only tightened.

“Don’t let fear steal your chance for happiness, Miss Barrington,” Annabelle whispered. “If God can make a path through the Red Sea, he can clear a way through whatever obstacles stand in front of you, too. So don’t go running back to Egypt just yet.”

As if the words had unlocked the door to a storm cellar, Stella dove inside the shelter they provided and closed the door on the tornado threatening to spin her mind out of control. Blinking, she peered at the young girl before her with new eyes. “What wise counsel, Miss Raymond.”

An impish grin lit Annabelle’s face. “I stole that advice from my eldest sister. It’s what she told me the night before I left home to come to school.

” Her expression sobered, and her shoulders bobbed in a shrug.

“It reminded me that holding tight to something just because it’s familiar isn’t always as safe or good as one might think.

Sometimes we have to try something new to discover blessings only God can see. ”

The howling storm abated a little more, and Stella managed to inhale a full breath. “Excellent advice.” She took another breath for good measure and let the brittleness around her forced smile soften into something more genuine. “How perceptive of you to recognize my need to hear it.”

Annabelle beamed, and she stood a little taller. “I’m glad it helped.” She gave Stella’s hand a final squeeze, then hurried off to catch up with the other girls. “See you later!”

Stella raised her hand in farewell, then turned to search for Frank. She found him intently studying a set of bricks in the dormitory wall a few steps away.

Clasping her hands behind her back to hide her residual nervousness, she moved toward him. “They’ve gone.”

He twisted to face her, his gaze glancing off her face to fall to the ground before making a slow climb back to her eyes.

As she waited for him to reply, it dawned on her that he’d never made eye contact with any of the other young ladies either.

Ladies who were all quite attractive, intelligent, and vibrant.

Could it be that it wasn’t her that he found difficult to look at, but people in general?

Or at least new people with whom he hadn’t yet established a level of comfort?

His eyes finally connected with hers, and she suddenly felt glad that he didn’t share them with others on a regular basis.

They were quite extraordinary. Bright blue, like a summer sky.

Yet it wasn’t their color that captivated her so much as what she saw in their depths.

Intelligence mixed with an endearing uncertainty.

Probing mixed with patience. Admiration mixed with .

.. attraction? Her pulse fluttered despite the logic that insisted she must have misinterpreted that last element.

“I hope you don’t think me cowardly for evading your friends. I’ve never been adept at conversing about things outside the realm of mathematics.”